


Vanilla Ice Cream

by Amberina



Category: Angel: the Series, Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Genre: F/F, F/M, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2004-04-20
Updated: 2004-04-20
Packaged: 2017-10-23 04:05:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,200
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/246111
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Amberina/pseuds/Amberina
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He told her the plan over vanilla ice cream.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Vanilla Ice Cream

I'm the Key.

The Key doesn't die. The Key doesn't go away. The Key can be used and reused and it will still be there. Always there. My body still exists to hold the Key.

A few years ago, this would bother me. Not so today. No, I'm not bothered.

Lindsey has taught me a lot of things in the few months I've known him. About myself, about magick, about the universe and how it works in relation to the magick inside of me.

I'm not so naive to think he knows everything, or even that half of what he tells me is the truth. But I know enough to know that I'm important to him.

Because of the blood that flows through my veins, perhaps, but it's enough.

He told me his plan over vanilla ice cream. He explained everything, and though I'm sure he left more than a few details out, I understood.

When we got to his apartment he kissed me and assured me that he would make sure nothing bad happened to me. I didn't believe him, of course -- but I didn't really care one way or another.

When the time came around, I wasn't scared. Even with my blase attitude, I was sure I'd at least be a little nervous.

Lindsey let me use the knife myself. I slid the knife along my arm and closed my eyes. Suddenly I was back, so many years ago. "Is this blood?" I had asked. My eyes opened again and I saw the blood drip in slow motion down to the symbols on the floor. This is blood.

My blood.

The symbols concentrated the power, Lindsey had explained (over vanilla ice cream -- I wondered if I'd ever eat vanilla ice cream again).

The symbols stopped all the dimensions from bleeding into one another (I'm bleeding profusely -- profusely is such a strange word, you know.)

All we needed was just a little power, just a little blood, just a little death for just a little life.

Lindsey didn't say it -- in fact, if I asked him he would probably deny it -- but I knew enough to know that was how these things worked.

I was a sacrifice, and he loved me (loved my blood) because he loved the woman I would bring back into the world.

I didn't blame him. I wasn't bitter. The blood was me -- I was my blood. It took a while for me to realize that, to accept that, but eventually I did.

He told me I meant a lot to him, and I knew he wasn't lying. I did. I meant the world to him.

Nearly literally.

I could feel the power pouring out of me (power, blood -- my blood is my power, I realize that now) but there was still more of it. More. So powerful, so full of this magickal blood. So, so powerful.

I knew then that I would never eat vanilla ice cream again.

That fact bothered me less than you would think it would, but more than I would have liked it to.

"Lindsey," I gasped. My voice came out shakier than I wanted it to. All more than I want. Too much. Too much blood, too much power. Too much life and too much death.

He looked over at me for an instant and his eyes flashed. In that moment I knew everything. No, being honest, I knew everything from the beginning. But at that moment I began to understand. There's a difference between knowing and understanding, you know. I get that now.

Lindsey wanted me to die. He understood that in order for him to have Darla back, he had to sacrifice me. It wasn't that he didn't care about me -- no, he cared. I know -- and I understand -- that he cared.

I think he nearly died of shock when the lightening shot out of the center of the symbols, and my heart continued to beat. It was a line of pure electricity, floor to ceiling, and when it finally faded, Darla was curled up on the floor. She was completely naked, and totally disoriented, but she was alive.

And so was I.

But only slightly.

With the ritual complete, the power (my blood) stopped flowing. As if by magick, the wounds on my arm healed. I watched the skin close up. No scars. Nothing to prove this really happened. Nothing except for Darla.

I crumbled to the floor. I didn't faint -- no, I was still alert -- but my legs gave out from under me. It occured to me that there might just be vanilla ice cream in my future, but for some reason I doubted it. I didn't even like vanilla ice cream.

Lindsey slowly approached her. I think he was afraid of spooking her. I would have been too, but I was too weak to make any movements -- so there was no danger of sudden movements from me.

He gently stroked her hair back and she looked at him. I watched as she looked him straight in the eye, neither of them blinking. Both of them seemed shaky. Scared.

Darla screamed when Lindsey stuck his fangs into her neck. I'll never forget the sound. It pierced the silence that had surrounded us. Her scream still echoes in my head. Shrill, and loud, and unbelievably chilling.

It didn't take long. It took less time than I thought it would. After Lindsey was done with Darla, he turned to me. A grin on his face, blood around his mouth. He didn't scare me.

Lindsey never scared me.

Not as much as I scared myself. As I still scare myself. He tells me that, as a vampire, I shouldn't be afraid of anything, least of all myself. He says fear is an emotion reserved for humans.

The problem is, I never was human. Or, I was, but I was always more. And now? I'm even more. I'm a girl, and I'm a vampire, but I'm also the Key. The Key never dies. The Key never goes away. The Key can be used and reused and it will still be there. Always there. My body still exists to hold the Key.

The Key and the demon and the human, I am all three. Always more. Always too much. It's always too much. I'm always too much. Than I, or anyone else, can handle.

Darla assures me, at night, when Lindsey is off doing . . . whatever he does. Darla strokes my hair and holds me and I think she may love me. I think she may love me for my power, for my blood. She says I'm more intoxicating than the finest wine.

I think I may love her. She reminds me of vanilla ice cream. Her hands on my body are cold like ice cream, and she melts under my tongue. Just like ice cream.

Lindsey enjoys the fact that his two girls get along so well. Darla and I don't enjoy much except each other, and somehow, that works for us. I think something might've bonded us to each other. It doesn't matter.

We've got power, and sex (blood and ice cream), and forever, and that's enough. For now.


End file.
